


Painted Whore

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Facials, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Polyamorous Relationship, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: “Do you know what I haven’t stopped thinking about since yesterday?” Misha asks. He pauses his thumb right at the bottom of Jensen’s chin.“What?” Jensen asks, he’s trying to keep up his game but his voice shakes, giving him away.“How pretty you’d look in red,” Misha says, slipping his thumb up and dragging it slowly along Jensen’s bottom lip.





	Painted Whore

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame Misha and his lipstick [tweet](https://twitter.com/mishacollins/status/1069822738947178496) for this. 
> 
> Lipstick used in the fic is WildPony by MAC. Also, thank you to Jensen for being born with such a beautiful mouth.

They’re watching something innocuous, a random show on Food Network Misha occasionally turns on as background noise. It’s late, after filming, and they’re both laid out on Jensen’s couch. Misha has his feet in Jensen’s lap, ankles resting on the curve of Jensen’s thighs. Jensen’s facing the TV, watching but not really paying attention as he scrolls through his phone, Instagram probably. They have a later call tomorrow than they did this morning, but Misha decided to stay the night anyway. It was one of those days; he needed to.

Now, post-dinner they’re both sipping at beers, Misha’s second is mostly gone now and there’s a warm thrum under his skin. He’s gazing at Jensen across from him, hardly listening to the lady on TV describing how to perfectly cook chicken cordon bleu. Jensen’s always been more interesting anyway. He is casually sitting back against the couch, calves resting up on the coffee table, tipping a beer bottle back to his lips. Misha watches Jensen’s lips part slightly as he drinks from the mouth of the bottle. His lips are damp and shiny when he pulls the bottle back, and he licks his plump bottom lip with a blip of his tongue.

He’s not doing it on purpose, doesn’t have to, but it’s driving Misha crazy.

Especially after yesterday, and the fun little picture Misha posted of himself. The stain of red still ever present on his nipple and all the images in his head of various places that red could go.

“So, I have an idea,” Misha starts.

Jensen raises an eyebrow curiously at him. “That’s never good.”

Misha slaps his leg, “Asshole, but I promise you’re gonna love this one.”

“Am I?” Jensen asks, sitting up a little eying Misha with a knowing smirk. He has _no idea._

“I think so, yeah.”

He has Jensen’s full attention now.

“So what’s the idea then?” Jensen asks, full of sass. So _this_ is how tonight’s going to go.

“Guess you better follow me and find out,” Misha replies with a shrug. He flips his feet off Jensen’s legs and gets up. He starts to head out of the room, not bothering to look back.

He knows Jensen will follow him, he’s too curious and too obedient not to.

It takes a few seconds but Misha hears Jensen sigh and then the sound of feet walking towards him echoes down the hallway.

Misha enters Jensen’s bedroom first, eyes his dresser and grabs a small tube off the top, slipping it into his back pocket. He stops right in front of the end of Jensen’s bed, rotating his body so he’s facing the door. He smiles when Jensen walks in, pausing in the doorway.

Misha pats the top of the comforter, “Sit.”

Jensen looks him up and down, mouth twitching up into a crooked smile and Misha knows he’s trying to figure out what’s going on. He does as he’s told, sits right down a foot to Misha’s right and looks up at him expectantly. His eyes bore into Misha’s and the heat snapping between them is almost enough to make Misha break and kiss him.

“Unbutton your shirt all the way, but don’t take it off.”

Jensen laughs, even as his fingers instantly move to brush over his top button, and asks, “What, are you gonna draw on my nipple too?”

“If you don’t shut up I might.”

Jensen’s eyes flash up to Misha’s, then he’s smirking as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. He makes a show out of it, taking his time, dragging his fingers down his chest a little after every button. He lets his shirt flap open when he’s done, and Misha catches a glimpse of his nipples. He’s tempted to do what Jensen thinks he’s going to do, until Misha drags his eyes back up and looks at his mouth.

“Now what?” Jensen asks, he rests his hands on his thighs, tapping his fingers on his jeans. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Misha’s, which seem to hold a permanent mischievous glint.

“You’re bratty tonight.”

Jensen shrugs, nonchalant but he’s smirking, “Just in a _mood,_ I guess.”

“Hmm,” Misha murmurs. This will be interesting.

“Close your eyes,” Misha orders.

He waits until Jensen’s eyelashes flutter fully shut and then steps in close, slipping a thigh between Jensen’s parted legs. He reaches out and cups Jensen’s chin with his fingers, gliding his thumb down the length of his jaw. He doesn’t miss the pleased sigh that leaves Jensen’s lips at his touch.

“Do you know what I haven’t stopped thinking about since yesterday?” Misha asks. He pauses his thumb right at the bottom of Jensen’s chin.

“What?” Jensen asks, he’s trying to keep up his game but his voice shakes, giving him away.

“How pretty you’d look in red,” Misha says, slipping his thumb up and dragging it slowly along Jensen’s bottom lip.

Jensen _gets it_ immediately, inhales sharp, and sucks on the tip of Misha’s thumb when it pauses in the middle of his lip.

Misha leaves his thumb there, lets Jensen suck on it. He will until Misha tells him to stop.

“Look,” Misha says, and grabs the thin tube of lipstick with his other hand and holds it out so Jensen can see it. It’s not the same one he used yesterday, this one is different, fancier and a brighter shade of rouge.

He finally draws his thumb back, drags slow down Jensen’s bottom lip letting it bounce back up. He settles his hand lower, fingers splaying over Jensen’s collarbone.

“I like it,” Jensen breathes, reaching up to snatch the tube from between Misha’s hands and spins it in between his fingers as he admires it.

“It’s called Wild Pony. There’s a little Texas emblem on the side, figured you’d like it,” Misha explains.

“It’s gorgeous,” Jensen agrees, looking up at Misha and smiling.

“Will you wear it for me?” Misha asks.

Jensen smirks, licks his lips, biting the bottom one and nods, “Yeah.”

Jensen places the tube back into Misha’s awaiting palm and leans back onto his hands. He angles his neck up towards Misha, and smiles, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Misha takes the cap off the lipstick, setting it onto the bed next to Jensen and takes another step closer. Misha glides his hand up along the line of Jensen’s neck up to cup his jaw, thumb sliding over Jensen’s lips.

Jensen sighs out, parts his lips and looks up at Misha with a look in his eyes that’s so submissive, Misha feels the rush of it all the way down to his toes.

The silence heated between them and he hasn’t even got the makeup on him yet. Misha tilts Jensen’s head up a little more with his thumb and smiles.

The lipstick is brand new, and slides on smooth. He’d bought it this morning at the store before heading over to set. Last night, the picture he’d posted with the lipstick on his nipple had been something fun, but it got him thinking. He couldn’t get his mind off of Jensen and how his lips would look with lipstick painted on them.

He starts on Jensen’s top lip first, lining the edges, putting enough pressure just to get color on. He thickens the fuller part of his top lip, swooping it along Jensen’s cupid’s bow. Jensen has his eyes closed now, eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He looks so gorgeous just sitting here, letting Misha do this. Misha pauses, moving his hand back to just look at him, his mouth half-painted red and lets out a shaky breath. This was a fucking great idea.

Jensen’s bottom lip is easier, but more distracting. It’s pliant as he traces over the plump curve, carefully lining the edge. He fills it with slow, precise movements, making sure he doesn’t mess up. Misha puts on a quick second layer afterwards, gliding the over the glossy surface of Jensen’s lips.

He pulls back once he’s done, tilting Jensen’s head to the side to admire his work. A rush of arousal goes through him, just seeing Jensen like this. It’s too bad he doesn’t wear lipstick very often because his mouth was made for it.

“Okay, all done,” Misha says, voice soft. He strokes his thumb along the line of Jensen’s jaw.

When Jensen opens his eyes his pupils are blown wide and he blinks a few times, eyes adjusting to the onslaught of light. He purses his lips together and separates them with a pop.

“Feels good, how do I look?” he asks, and sounds almost worried.

He looks phenomenal, so fucking pretty it makes Misha ache just looking at him. Misha wants to kiss him right now, wants to mess up the work he just did so he can taste him. Instead, Misha reaches out and takes Jensen’s hand with a wink, “Let’s go see.”

Jensen follows him, letting Misha pull him along into the bathroom. Misha steals a glance behind him, and finds Jensen staring bashfully at the floor, watching the backs of Misha’s legs as he walks. He doesn’t wanna look yet.

Misha stops them right in the center of the bathroom, in front of Jensen’s expansive mirror that stretches out across the entire length of the sink. Jensen’s still not looking at himself, eyes trained on the ground, almost like he’s waiting for permission. Misha gives it to him.

“Beautiful, Jensen. Look,” Misha says. He presses a soft kiss on Jensen’s cheek and that gets Jensen to raise his head ever so slightly.

He sucks in a deep breath when he sees himself, reaches up and traces his thumb right beneath his lip where the red starts.

“Oh, wow,” he whispers.

“You look hot,” Misha says, lips ghosting over the shell of Jensen’s ear. He smirks when he feels Jensen’s entire body shiver.

“Yeah?” Jensen says, and when he rotates towards Misha the smile he gives him is almost feral,  “What are you gonna do about it?”

They’re a few inches apart now, Misha’s arm slipped loosely around Jensen’s waist. Jensen’s rouge covered mouth is so close that Misha can see the sheen from the lipstick glinting in the light above them. He’s been dying to kiss him since he put it on, so he does.

Jensen’s lips are stickier than normal, but get slick once Misha’s licks into Jensen’s mouth and walks him back against the nearest wall.  The lipstick is chalky on his tongue, reminds him of kissing Vicki and Danneel, just not as soft. It’s still Jensen.

When they pull apart after a few breathless minutes Jensen immediately starts giggling and points at Misha’s face. He turns and looks in the mirror, and sure enough his mouth and chin, and part of his jaw are covered in red streaks. He looks messy, he loves it.

Jensen leans in and presses a very purposeful kiss against Misha’s cheek that’s reflected back to them in the mirror. He pulls back and there’s a perfect kiss mark smack dab in the middle of Misha’s cheek.

Misha’s mouth twitches in amusement, and he grabs a fistful of Jensen’s shirt, pulling Jensen back in close to him.

“I was really hoping you’d do that,” he says, grinning, and then presses another lingering kiss against Jensen’s mouth.

This time when he pulls back, the lipstick is really smudged, and you can see the pink of Jensen’s lips peeking through the gaps in the makeup. Misha sees Jensen spot himself in the mirror, examining his mouth.

“You should put more on me,” Jensen says.

Misha quirks an eyebrow at him and asks, “Why?”

“Because, I uh... wanna do something,” Jensen replies cryptically. There is the hint of a blush on his cheeks, and Misha is always down for whatever sort of surprises Jensen has. He’s curious.

“Hmm. Okay, go sit back down,” Misha says. He pecks Jensen’s mouth, licking at the remainder of lipstick there and smacks Jensen’s ass with his palm. Jensen makes a surprised noise against his lips, but then he’s smiling, and starts laughing when they pull apart and he heads back into the bedroom.

Misha follows him, and finds Jensen already sitting in the same position he was a few minutes ago, eyes closed, looking completely vulnerable. His legs are spread a little more than before, and Misha can see he’s hard underneath his sweatpants. The urge to touch him is overwhelming, but he holds back, wants to see what Jensen is going to do first.

He rests his hand on Jensen’s shoulder to let him know that he’s there. It’s brief, and he’s moving again, uncapping the lipstick with a pop.

“You want it on thick?” Misha asks.

Jensen hums in consideration, smirks and says, “Yeah.”

Misha steps in close, matches his pose from earlier, legs bracketing Jensen’s, but this time lets his legs brush against Jensen’s. He reaches out and takes Jensen’s chin between his fingers, tight and tilts his head up. Jensen sighs out at his touch, and automatically parts his lips.

He looks so slutty with red smeared across his mouth, waiting for Misha to do what he wants to his mouth.

Misha takes a breath and carefully drags the tip of the lipstick across Jensen’s bottom lip. He lays it on thick, just like Jensen asked, and lifts Jensen’s chin up a little higher when he starts in on his top lip. Jensen’s mouth is cherry red when he’s finished, smooth and delicious.

Misha taps his thumb on Jensen’s chin, “All done.”

Jensen’s eyes blink open, and Misha watches, entranced as Jensen moves his lips together, evening out the texture. He smiles once it’s how he wants it and stands up, right into Misha space, hands falling to Misha’s hips.

“Let me suck you off,” Jensen says.

“Fuck,” Misha groans, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Jensen’s, “As if I’d say no with you looking like this.”

Jensen chuckles low and presses a perfect red kiss on the side of Misha’s neck, “Good.”

He holds eye contact with Misha as he starts undoing his belt buckle with practiced ease. He’s over-eager, getting Misha out of his pants and underwear with fumbling hands. Misha thinks he should probably help, but he’s enjoying Jensen’s desperation. The moment his clothes are off, Jensen drops fully to his knees, hands sliding down Misha’s bare thighs as he does, eyes still trained on Misha’s. It punches a breath from Misha’s lungs, how fucking good he looks like this, staring up at Misha through long eyelashes, plump lips bright red.

Jensen starts slow, twirling his tongue around the head. He sucks at the tip, and when he pulls back there’s a dark rim of red around Misha’s cock. It’s fucking hot. Misha sees Jensen’s eye the mark he left, and grins up at Misha. This was clearly his plan all along. Misha groans from deep in his chest when Jensen licks his lips, and reaches down grabbing a handful of his hair. He pulls him closer as Jensen takes him deep this time, until Misha feels his cock hit the back of Jensen’s throat.

Jensen sucks him fast and dirty, and lets Misha fuck into his mouth. He’s sloppy, mouth wet with spit and it only makes the lipstick rub off more. He looks obscene like this, Misha knows he’s not going to be able to last very long.

Jensen hollows out his mouth, licking a long line down the length of him, and that sends Misha over the edge. He feels Jensen grip his leg, knowing he expects Misha to come into his mouth, but Misha pulls out right before he comes, painting Jensen’s cherry-stained mouth white. Jensen groans, clenches at Misha’s thigh with his palm and drags a slow tongue over his bottom lip.

“Come here,” Misha growls, dragging Jensen up into his lap by a fistful of his open shirt. Jensen easily climbs into his lap, straddling Misha’s hips. Misha drags his tongue along Jensen’s lips, tasting himself on them, and licks into his mouth. He grips Jensen’s hips, hard, and angles his neck down to nip at Jensen’s neck.

“I want you to come for me, just like this? Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck yeah,” Jensen moans.

Jensen wraps his arms around Misha’s neck, clasping his fingers together and thrusts down. Misha helps Jensen move against him, rocks their hips together, and kisses him deep. Remnants of lipstick are on Jensen’s mouth, and Misha licks at the seal of his mouth. They get a good pace going, Misha clinging to Jensen’s hips, enjoying how hard Jensen is against him as they grind together. Jensen pulls back for air as he gets close, hips thrusting erratically against Misha’s. He leans down, mouth open, hot breath and lips searing over Misha’s neck.

Jensen comes fast, like a fucking teenager, with a groan of, “Mish,” brushing an open-mouthed kiss along Misha’s jaw. Misha holds him through it, buries his nose into the crook of Jensen’s sweat-slick neck. He kisses him there as he comes down, Jensen’s hips still rocking slow through it. Misha leans back to look at him, watching Jensen taking in a few deep breaths, and then he’s coming in close, bumping their foreheads together.

The lipstick is mostly gone now, just a faint pink stain on Jensen’s lips, but the memory is there and it’s certainly something Misha will never forget.

“Sleep?” Misha asks.

Jensen laughs, bumps his nose against Misha’s and nods.

“You tired me out, but that was... hot.”

“It was,” Misha agrees, “You looked so good.”

Jensen blushes as pink as his mouth and smiles bashfully at the praise..

“Thanks, we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Misha thinks about all the possibilities that involve Jensen, himself, and lipstick and grins, “Definitely.”

Jensen cringes as he moves off Misha, probably from the mess in his pants. Misha watches him shuffle awkwardly into the bathroom, and grab two towels. He tosses one at Misha’s face on his way to the dresser. Misha leans back on his hands, watching as Jensen moves about the room, cleaning up and quickly changing into new pair of pants.

He almost forgot he was half-naked, until Jensen throws a pair of pants at his face. Misha retorts a faux offended, “Hey!” to which Jensen chuckles at.

Misha is under the covers a few minutes later, bed shifting under hims as Jensen climbs in across from him. Jensen reaches for him, palm gliding over Misha’s ribs. Misha mimics his movements, and as always, they gravitate towards each other until the tips of their noses are brushing, legs tangled underneath the covers.

“Good night,” Misha whispers.

“Night, Mish,” Jensen whispers back between their shared air.

Misha falls asleep soon after, the warmth of Jensen enveloping him, and the memory of Jensen’s lipstick covered mouth all over him.


End file.
